


die bayern-dna

by kopfkino



Category: Football RPF
Genre: FC Bayern München, Fluff and Smut, M/M, coach kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 19:12:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15780327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kopfkino/pseuds/kopfkino
Summary: Thomas finally gets around visiting brand new bayern coach Miro.





	die bayern-dna

“That’ll be all for today _Jungs_ \-- remember to work on your exercises and focus on the next game.” 

The group of red Bayern shirts dissolve from the circle. Miro smiles a bit to himself, feeling strangely pleased with the way his first month of coaching has gone. He’d always wondered now it’d be to have his own command, but this was so fulfilling. It makes him glad he took it right after Lazio, rather than to keep swimming in a sea of uncertainty.

He follows his new assistant to the bench to grab the documents. The sun is starting to set after a nice summer day with a breeze. Munich at this time of year has always been his favorite.

“Have a nice weekend Herr. Klose!” Dirk Teschke waves, heading towards the door. Miro takes a moment to look at the white bordered field by windows leading into the brand new Campus. As he reaches the entrance, he almost misses the figure leaning against the wall right next to the door. 

“Three wins in a row, impressive, coach.”

He turns his head to find Thomas, relaxed with a wide smile on his face. He should be surprised, but he isn’t. It was a matter of time before Thomas figured his way out to the U-17’s training location.

“We conceded a goal each time,” He replies, automatically. “There’s room for improvement.”

Thomas laughs loudly, and Miro already knows he’s about to make some remark about how “typical” and “predictable” he is.

“Don’t you have your own other training to be at?” Miro says instead. Thomas pretends to act offended for a second but quickly enough follows him inside. He doesn’t need to explain himself, but he does so anyway.

“Niko gave us the day off and since Niklas and Basti are busy today, no golf. You can imagine the boredom I was going through. So, I thought I’d visit the latest big piece of news in München. It’s everywhere you know, instagram, twitter, facebook.”

“Ah,” Miro responds, as they turn the corner of the building to reach his new office. The Campus was built with the advantage that every junior crew would have a space of their own. Once inside, Thomas takes a step forward to inspect the board filled with post-its and maps. “I see you like an attacking midfield and forward, you know, Niko and I were talking about how--”

 

The window lets inside enough light in and after a moment of ordering his paperwork listening to Thomas’ comments on the tactics discussed earlier, Miro decides to sit on the edge of his desk. Many years of listening to Thomas have given him the skill to know when he’s in for a long talk.

“We’ll see after the first half of the season. What really matters is to give the younger generation confidence and responsibility.” Miro adds.

Thomas turns to him, but he stops talking, as if something else has entirely distracted him.

“What?” Miro asks, crossing his arms. 

“It suits you, you know?” Thomas returns to the tactic board, shaking his head with a smile.  

“What does?” He turns to the pencil on the table and takes it to play around with his hands. Thomas, his eyes back on Miro, moves towards him and takes the pencil away from him so he has his full attention.

“Coaching,” He smiles, tilting his head forwards a bit and Miro’s eyes meet his, not sure he’s entirely following.

“You’ve seen me coach for two years now,” He reminds him, and by the way Thomas is moving between his legs, opens them to let him get closer.

Thomas shakes his head exaggeratedly, and bites his lip. His attention turns down as he rests one of his hands on the Bayern crest of his grey shirt. “I mean, you’re here now and you’re the head trainer, Opa. It’s very… alluring. To say the least.”

“I see,” Miro’s lips curl into a wry smile, the way Thomas is carefully resting his hand on the crest. It’s as if he still can’t believe it, although if he’s being honest, Miro never thought he’d come back to this club either, so that makes two of them.

“And the best part is that you’re not _my coach_ or  _my teammate_ anymore, so we can keep it professional.”

Miro can’t help but smile with that comment, “Since when do you worry about _keeping it professional_?”

“Right,” Thomas agrees and kisses him with his two hands still on his chest. Miro’s own hands find his sides and he opens for him, letting Thomas deepen the kiss. After a moment, they break apart and Miro takes a glance at the door, concerned for a split second of anyone who could walk in. Thomas moves to his neck and sucks gently on it pushing away any attention lost back to him. Thomas combines the work on his neck with one of his hands reaching down, groping him through the fabric of the pants. He’s already worked up, and Miro can’t help but let out a small moan. 

“Thom--,” He tries to say, but Thomas is still smiling against his chest, not really sucking anymore, but rather paying attention to Miro’s body respond to his hand. “Thomas,” He manages, and this time Thomas does look up and with the most compelling tone. “Yes, coach?”

Miro can’t help but bite his lip. “The door,” He says, and Thomas gets it. He quickly breaks and jumps to press on the lock. When he turns back, he takes a moment to appreciate Miro catching his breath. “Very responsible of you, coach.”

Thomas decides to sit next to him, and after a moment of silence, Miro turns to him suddenly confused by the calm. Their gazes meet and Thomas cracks into laughter, it’s contagious enough to infect Miro, who’s now also smiling widely.

"How is it we always end up in these situations?" Thomas takes it as it is, and  knows what's next. He moves back in front of him, dropping gracelessly to his knees.

"So, where were we at?"

He looks at Miro up to confirm he has his full attention, and smiles to himself, as he sprays his hands on his hips.  He pulls his pants down along with his underpants, at a terribly slow rhythm. Miro’s fingers find their way into Thomas’ curls and it feels good and enthusiastic, as usual.

Thomas’ hands don’t touch his crotch again yet, instead only playing around the thighs. It’s hard for Miro to stand still and not tremble under his touch. He lets out an exasperated sigh when he gets closer, but Thomas can tell he’s amused, so he continues to work his way smoothly.

“Never had you figured out as impatient, Miro. Don't worry, you'll make it as a coach." His head drops to leave little kisses on his skin, still trembling. His voice is deeper and lower now.

"Three wins in a row is a good omen, and who knows, you might end up as head coach of Bayern,"

His hand finally wraps itself around Miro's shaft, and by the way Miro's hand has found it's way to his cheek, can tell how much he wants it. But instead, Thomas continues talking.

"Leave poor Niko out of a job, or then maybe you can replace Jogi when he retires at die Mannschaft and inherit it," He pauses, "Or what's left of it." 

“Thomas,” He can’t really think of anything else with his head merely inches from him and his hands teasing him like this. Thomas looks up, knowing exactly what Miro means, but still waits for further instructions. "Yes, coach?" 

"Just, suc-- suck," The words tremble unwillingly, but it's enough for Thomas, who grins mischievously and does as ordered, finally sucking him.

 

“So,” He starts again, after Miro manages to bring back some focus. He’s resting his back against the bottom of the desk, a bit drowsy still. “The Bayern-DNA has always been in you huh--“ 

Miro moves closer to him, completely unsurprised the interview has reached his ears and Thomas grins.“Because I remember things quite differently. Unless--” Thomas cracks up before he can continue. 

“Unless?” Miro grins back, obviously amused. 

“Well you know how-- I’m very Bavarian, and if you mean to have the Bayern-gen inside you in a-- different wa--” Thomas can’t finish his sentence before Miro is already kissing him hard, cheeks pink, steady again. It’s designed to shut him up, but Thomas hums in response, in a sort of affirmative way to his statement. 

 

 


End file.
